Write a few pages in which you obsess over something meaningless.

 It all started with a small crack in the pavement. I couldn't help but fixate on it every time I passed by. At first, I thought it was just a temporary fixation, a passing fancy, but the more I looked at it, the more I became obsessed with it.

I would find myself going out of my way to walk past the crack, just so I could see it again. I began to notice every detail, every nuance, every imperfection. I would inspect it from different angles, at different times of the day, under different lighting conditions. I even took photos of it with my phone, zooming in to capture every tiny aspect.

As the days turned into weeks, my obsession with the crack only grew stronger. I started researching about cracks in pavements, their causes and effects, and the different ways they can be fixed. I even talked to some experts in the field, asking them about their opinions on the crack I had become so fixated on.

I couldn't explain why I was so obsessed with this crack. It was just a tiny imperfection in the pavement, something that most people would barely notice. But to me, it was everything. It was a symbol of imperfection, of the fragility of our infrastructure, of the inevitability of decay.

I began to see cracks everywhere I looked. Every time I walked down the street, I would see cracks in the sidewalk, in the walls of buildings, in the faces of people. It was as if my obsession with this one crack had opened up a new way of seeing the world, a world filled with imperfections and flaws.